Escaping the Rut
by lilly32261
Summary: Neal's getting a little bored with working for the FBI.
1. Chapter 1

Neal leaned back on the bench, shivering slightly in the brisk air that had arrived alongside the setting sun despite the warmth of the day. He tapped his foot impatiently, opened the newspaper, closed it again, set it down beside him, picked it up and started the cycle all over.

Above him the stars glittered coldly, looking down upon the meeting that wasn't quite happening. The music of New York at night swirled around Neal, beginning to ease him into sleep. Buildings lit up in their nighttime glory swam in front of his eyes until they blended with the stars into a mass of silver and gold light.

Neal shook his head, fighting to keep awake. The sleepless nights were starting to catch up to him. He promised himself that he would sleep in tomorrow or something, just as long as he could stay awake until the person he was waiting for came. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Caffrey?"

Neal jumped a little. "You made it."

The man standing in front of him was wearing a heavy overcoat despite the temperature. His face was thrown into shadow by the hat he was wearing and the trees, but Neal had memorized his features by now. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he casually leaned against a tree.

"Of course. When Neal Caffrey calls me and asks me to meet him under the stars and in his radius I'm not going to deny him." The man's voice was deep and kind of gravelly. Neal felt his mouth spreading into a grin.

"Anyway," the man continued, "I assume you didn't want to meet me here just for small talk. How's your arrangement with the Feds working out?"

Neal shrugged, rising to his feet. "That's why I called you, actually. I'm getting a little… bored. I hate to say it, but I'm stuck in a rut."

"Ah, so you decided prison was the better option for you? I seem to remember that you initially loved this idea of this because you could get fresh air, walk around a bit, push your boundaries a bit more…"

Something flashed across Neal's eyes. "You know as well as I do that there was another reason along with those."

The man held up a finger. "Au contraire. There were two other reasons at least, but one of those is in Europe and the other is a tragedy three years past."

Neal hung a hand behind his neck. "Yeah, well. Some things take awhile to stop hurting. Either way I need help. I'm losing my touch."

There was a moment of silence. Then, "Well, Caffrey, can you still paint?"

"Forgeries or original?"

"Either or."

"Yeah. For both."

"What about safe cracking?"

"Yes."

"Still able to get anyone and everyone wrapped around your finger with only a few words?"

Neal smiled wryly, thinking of Diana. "Usually."

"Still able to notice when Moz slips the Queen under the table in three card Monte?"

"It keeps me on my toes."

"And back to where it all started: Can you still pick locks in record time?"

"The Feds actually encourage that one sometimes."

"Then you're good. My job here is done. Sayonara Neal. It was nice seeing you again." He turned to leave.

Neal frowned at the way he moved and the way the last sentence had sounded. "Wait!"

The man kept walking.

Neal ran to catch up. "Hey, wait a minute!" He reached out and grabbed the sleeve of the man's coat. There was the distinctive crunch of packing peanuts.

The man turned around, the streetlights illuminating his features. "Caffrey, I have other places to be tonight you know."

Neal grinned at the face of someone who was most definitely not who he was expecting to see. "Give it up." He plucked the hat away from the head of the person in front of him.

Honey colored hair turned to gold by the street light pooled around the shoulders of a pretty young woman, freed from the confines of the fedora. A smile spread across her face, revealing perfect teeth. She let her voice fall back to its normal pitch. "Hey Caffrey. I'm surprised it took you this long to catch on. You _are_ losing your touch."

"Hey Syremmine. Still as good as ever, but I was kind of expecting-"

"My father. I know, Caffrey. I just thought I'd like to see you one more time before the feds turn you into a lap dog. From what I hear you're already their pet."

Neal opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by her sardonic grin.

"Cat got your tongue, Caffrey?" she asked innocently.

He thought for a moment, fighting to think of something to say as he forced old memories away. Finally, he managed to get out, "Ready to con the FBI?"

**Let me know what you think of this. I'm kind of test running this for now, if there's any interest in it I'll continue it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I will never figure out how I always manage to forget this in the first chapter: Thinking that WC belongs to me would be that funny thing known as wishful thinking. That honor goes to the brilliant Jeff Eastin. **

"I see you finally decided to wake up."

Neal jumped a little. Syremmine turned from where she was standing at the glass doors that led out onto the terrace.

"I take it you let yourself in?"

"Caffrey! How dare you even suggest that I would break into your place. I knocked on the door and your landlady let me in."

Neal laughed. "Have you had breakfast yet, Syrie?"

She shook her head and sat down at his table. "You think I've had time? My priority was getting over here so we could talk about what you want to do with the FBI."

"Well, we aren't necessarily going to be conning the Feds as such…" Neal sat down across from her.

She waved a hand airily. "Distinctions, distinctions. Trust me, Caffrey. We're going to be conning the Feds no matter how you look at it, unless you plan to let your partner in on it?" She raised a single eyebrow and watched him expectantly.

The words that immediately forced their way to his tongue were 'She already knows' but he knew that she wasn't referring to herself. "No. Let's not tell Peter. If we do it right he won't catch on and know its us."

Syremmine laughed. "Caffrey, since when have I done something so brazenly that the Feds caught onto it and pinned it on me? Seriously. All they ever tried to pin on me was a parking ticket!"

Neal made a face. "Don't rub it in. You are probably one of the better influences that a con man could have."

She smiled sweetly, showing the dimples that Neal adored. "Why thank you. Speaking of good influences, am I going to meet the legendary Mozzie while I'm here?"

"How do you know his real name?"

"Caffrey, you know better than to ask me that. I know it's been awhile, but seriously."

He picked up a stray scrap of paper and fiddled with it. "Yeah, I should know better. You might get to meet him, maybe not. It depends on what he chooses."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Neal jumped almost a foot into the air when his stomach grumbled.

Syremmine laughed and rose to her feet. "Come on, Caffrey. We'll go get you some breakfast."

"I don't need-"

"Yeah, you do. There's a little café right down the street that's more than in your radius. They've got some pretty good lunch specials, and besides, I'm paying. Also, we need to figure out what we're going to be doing behind the FBI's back to keep you entertained."

Neal decided not to argue, remembering why he had enjoyed working with her all those years ago.

After all, one doesn't forget their first partner in crime very easily.

**Let me know what you think as usual. Sorry for the shorter chapter. I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing daily(texting/emailing excluded) so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently. **

**Anyway, review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

Neal found it nearly impossible to concentrate. He hadn't heard from Syremmine since Saturday. When they were finished with their lunch (in his case breakfast), she had left saying that she was going to find something worthy of Caffrey to steal and she would meet up with him again on Tuesday.

Today was Tuesday.

He knew that he shouldn't really be worried; she could take care of herself. Still, he found himself wondering what she was doing that could possibly involve disappearing for almost three days. Of course, she was a con artist and this _was_ New York. It was more than possible that she had contacts here and she was meeting up with old friends.

Neal forced his attention back to the case in front of him. He already had it more or less solved but there would undoubtedly be countless hours in the van ahead of him. The van was a really, really bad idea right now.

He knew Peter was noticing that his attention span had reached an all time low. He did his best to hide it, to feign interest in place of his impatience but Peter could see through all of his faked smiles.

When lunch finally rolled around Neal ran up the stairs to Peter's office. "Hey, you want to go to that deli you like, or do you have plans with El?"

Peter put his pen down and shut the folder in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he replied, "Wherever you want to go is good with me. It's your turn to choose anyway."

Neal flashed a grin. "I don't care. Let's go." He was already halfway down the stairs before Peter had stood up.

"Hey, Neal…." Peter called.

Neal turned around abruptly and came back up the stairs. "Come on, let's go. I can't stand another minute in here."

"Are you okay?" Peter asked. When no response was forthcoming he added, "Does this have something to do with the Nickleson case?"

Neal shook his head. "Nope. I'm just restless. Can we go to lunch now? Please?"

"I suppose. Who would I be to deny Neal Caffrey a lunch out of the office when he's been working hard all day?"

Neal shifted impatiently from foot to foot as Peter put on his suit jacket and grabbed his keys. It seemed like an eternity but eventually Peter walked toward him. "Come on. So where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. You choose or something."

"You sure something isn't up?"

Neal rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me that way, Peter. I'm fine. I just need to get some fresh air or something."

Peter's mouth twisted into a smile. "Do you want to take the stairs, Neal?"

"No, I'm fine…" Neal started before what Peter had said caught up with him. Peter was grinning as his partner turned away from the elevator and trotted toward the stairs.

"I'll meet you at the bottom," Peter called as the elevator doors opened. Neal gave him a thumbs up and disappeared into the stairwell.

When the elevator doors slid open on the first floor Peter saw Neal casually leaning against the wall across from him.

Peter looked at Neal and then the stairwell in shock. "You aren't even out of breath!" he accused.

Neal shrugged. "It's only what, twenty some flights?"

"Twenty-one." Peter shook his head, cutting Neal's reply off. "Never mind. Let's just go get lunch."

Neal fell into step beside his partner. "You sure you don't want to interrogate me on how I got down here so fast without being out of breath?"

Peter pushed the doors open, sending a warm breeze swirling around the nearly empty office. "How about we just drop it and go get some lunch?"

"Tetchy," Neal returned mildly.

"Hey! Hey, Neal!"

Both men turned to find a pretty woman who looked like she was in her early twenties running towards them. She had purple hair that hung around her shoulders, bangs brushed sharply to the left side. She had one blue eye and one brown. Her tight fitting skinny jeans contrasted rather sharply with her flowing sea green tunic. Beads dripped from her neck and bangles clattered on her wrists as she slid to a stop in front of them. The whole ensemble was completed with an expensive looking purse and a pair of well-worn flats.

Neal grinned at her. "Hey." _Trust Syremmine to come up with a disguise that insane,_ he thought.

Peter looked from his CI to the girl, trying to imagine where Neal could have met her. "Well, Caffrey, care to introduce us?"

"Oh, sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. She thrust a hand at him. "I'm Nikki. Nikki Williams. I take it you're Agent Peter Burke?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, Neal's told me _so_ much about you!" she gushed. "He says you're the best FBI agent there is, and all sorts of other flattering stuff." She grinned and turned to Neal. "Hey, are you free for lunch?"

Neal glanced at Peter. "We were just about to go get some actually. Me and Peter here. Food, that is…."

She smirked. "Still tongue tied around me? Never mind. You're busy. I'll call you tonight or something and we can get a date worked out. We need to catch up! It's been _forever_."

She turned to leave when Peter called out, "Hey, there's room for another person."

She turned back, her eyes sparkling when she saw Neal's obvious discomfort. "Really? I'd probably drive you all crazy though… Its fine, I've got some girlfriends I can go to lunch with."

"No, really, it's fine," Peter assured her. "I think a lunch with you and Neal would be fun."

A smile danced across her face and her eyes laughed. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. Come on." Peter motioned with his head down the street. "There's this deli down the street that Neal has decided we're going to."

"Oh, okay. Let's go!"

Peter found the girl almost skipping between him and Neal absolutely mesmerizing. She had a certain bouncy, devil-may-care feel about her, and though that wasn't odd in itself, the way Neal acted around her was. Peter had never seen his partner be at a loss for words and here Nikki Williams(assuming that was her real name) comes running up the street and suddenly Caffrey can barely breathe.

It made him wonder how they knew each other, and what was going on between them. She was obviously an old acquaintance, and that intrigued him. Neal's past before he was eighteen was shrouded in mystery, and here was this stranger who could quite possibly shed some light on the con man.

When they reached the deli Peter stopped Neal and turned to Nikki. "Can I have a quick word with Neal?"

She nodded and flashed a grin. "Of course! I'll be waiting inside." She flowed into the deli, for lack of a better word. Peter watched Neal's reaction and wasn't surprised to see him openly staring at her, and there was definitely something longing in his gaze.

"Who is she?"

Neal turned to face him. "An old friend."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "She looks like an old crush to me."

Neal laughed nervously. "No. Nothing like that."

Peter was grinning. "You're sure?"

"What do you think?"

Peter raised his hands to shoulder level. "Hey, I'm just wondering. I promise I won't rat you out. How long have you known her?"

"Is this an official interrogation?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Neal turned away and took a step towards the door. Peter caught his arm. "Hang on. Just tell me how long you've known her."

"This your last question?"

Peter laughed. "Of course not! She shows up and suddenly the great Neal Caffrey can't find his silver tongue to charm her. I've seen you with women under your thumb before, but I've never seen one with _you_ wrapped around _her_ finger."

Neal sighed. "I've known her since long before I was eighteen, okay?"

Peter let go of his arm, his face shocked. Neal slipped into the deli before Peter could say anything more.

…

Syremmine pulled Neal into the family bathroom the second he walked into the deli. She locked the door behind her and then turned to him, arms crossed and back leaning against the door. "So, that's your partner."

Neal nodded. "Yeah. I take it you found something?"

She smiled sweetly and Neal inwardly winced. He knew that smile. That was the smile that a cat gives a mouse when trying to get it to relax its guard so it was that much easier to go in for the kill. "In case you haven't noticed, I just got myself into a lunch with a Fed. We aren't going there until later."

Neal sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could do to get the information out of her before she was ready to give it. "Okay." He moved to the door and she stood her ground, despite the fact that he had a good four inches on her.

"Is there something you want to know?" she asked, apparently unfazed as he scrutinized her.

"Did you dye your hair or is it a wig?" he asked, putting his hands on the door, one on each side of her head.

"Dye. When we get to the actual heist I'll dye it copper or brunette, and when we're done with all of this I'll get it cut so I can spike it easily and dye it back to its original color. Anything else you want to know?"

He pursed his lips. "You look like you have complete heterochromia iridis."

She grinned and tilted her head. "_So _specific! Anyway, doesn't everyone?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, last time I checked its pretty rare."

She shrugged. "Amazing what colored contacts can do. I want to leave as few of my distinguishing characteristics behind as possible. They're going to be so caught up looking for someone with two different colored eyes that I'll slip right past them."

"You look ten years younger."

"Of course. It's all in the make up and the hair. The right clothes don't hurt either." She shrugged. "Your Fed buddy is out there waiting for us. Done interrogating me about Nikki's appearance?"

"Last time I saw Nikki Williams she had red-gold hair, violet eyes, and looked my age."

"Last time you saw Nikki we were seventeen."

"Touché. Well, lets go join Peter. No secrets though, okay? Don't feed him more than necessary."

She grinned innocently. "Come on, Caffrey. Have a little more faith in your old partner in crime. I can't do any more damage with Peter than I can with Mozzie tonight!"

Neal didn't bother to reply; after all, she would do what she wanted and it was in his best interest to just play along.

Besides, she wouldn't say anything incriminating... would she?

**As usual, let me know what you think. Sorry for the delay, and I am serious this time: next update within the week.**


	4. Chapter 4

Neal collapsed on his couch. It had been a very long day and it wasn't finished yet. After lunch Peter had questioned- no, _interrogated_ Neal about who Nikki was and how they had met. Neal had kept his answers vague and counted the hours until he could go home and find out what exactly Syremmine had found for them to steal.

Knowing her it would be something big. Something that everyone would hear about within hours. Just the thought of the heist she undoubtedly had planned made his heart beat a little faster. Suddenly he wanted nothing more to put on a tuxedo and lead Syrie into some party where they would flirt and dance before slipping away and nicking the item in question and returning to the party, carefully biding their time until they could gracefully disappear, leaving behind them an empty display case and rapidly fading memories.

Neal had forgotten how the anticipation before a heist felt, the almost unbearable feeling that he needed to do something, _anything_.

He rose to his feet just as the door swung open.

"Ever thought of knocking, Moz?"

His friend shrugged. "How do you know Syremmine Carlson?"

"We went to the same elementary school. Why?"

Mozzie set his bag down on the couch. "You know her but you didn't think to tell me?"

Neal frowned. "It never crossed my mind. We used to be partners, sure, but we had to lead different lives."

"She's a legend, Neal! A _legend_. They say that she and her elusive partner stole millions in diamonds when they were fifteen. _Fifteen!_"

Neal shifted uncomfortably. "It was actually just under a million…"

"…Then she disappeared without a trace about a decade ago only to resurface in New York and put the word out there that she wants to meet me- Wait, what do you mean it was just under a million? How would you know?"

Neal studied a spot just above Mozzie's shoulder. It was a very interesting spot.

"Neal, you didn't."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "About that…"

Mozzie's expression was unreadable. "Wow. Well Neal, I wish I could say I wasn't surprised that her partner was you. Of course, this is the stuff that myths are made out of, and I half didn't believe it…"

Neal shrugged. "Ask Syrie about it tonight, I'm sure she'll be willing to show you the diamonds that we still have."

"You still have them? No one knows where they went, everyone thought they were lost."

"We don't have all of them. We had to get ourselves out of trouble once or twice before we split up. We each got half and we both hid our share in places where they would be safe."

"I can't believe you never told me!"

"There was never any reason to, Moz. My share is hidden throughout the US and Europe. They're backup in case something happens and I can't get cash. Besides, you can't sell them to just anyone."

"What about Carlson?"

"I don't know what Syremmine did with her share. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask her."

"Ask her what?"

Neal spun to face the door. Syremmine was casually leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and smirking. Her hair had been pulled into a bun. She was wearing capris and what looked suspiciously like one of his old shirts with the sleeves rolled up, the front open to reveal an indigo camisole. "Jeez, Syrie. How long have you been standing there?"

"Just long enough to hear something about shares and things I've done with them."

"Oh, we were talking about the diamonds. Moz wants to see them."

She pushed herself away from the doorframe and stepped delicately into the room. "So we finally meet," she said, grinning at Mozzie. "You're a bit of a mystery. Everyone knows that someone's helping Caffrey here but no one knows who."

"Good. I've done my best to become the man behind the curtain and stay that way. You, on the other hand, have been immortalized."

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Well other than your father being a rather renowned fence, there's stories of two cons running heist after heist, the most notable being the one where they made off with millions in diamonds."

She tilted her head. "Really? That's odd. Neal, did you start these rumors?"

Neal shook his head. "Nope. They're pretty accurate though."

"We got just under a million dollars worth."

"I know. From what I hear the stories are pretty old, ending with you disappearing."

Mozzie shook his head. "How can neither of you heard this? The stories have been around for years now!"

Syrie shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, Mozzie. Do you want to see two of the diamonds?"

She was already taking off her earrings as Mozzie nodded. She took them to the table and passed them to Moz.

He examined them carefully. "Eight carats each, I'm guessing?"

"Something along those lines." She shrugged.

"I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing they're IGI certified…"

"Of course. Those aren't even the most special of the diamonds that we stole. I chose these because most would assume that its just another piece of cubic zirconia set in ten karat gold, albeit ten karat rose gold."

Neal watched as Mozzie studied the earrings. "I was a little concerned when you said that you wanted to get them set but the end result is beautiful."

"Isn't it?" She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "I'm surprised you haven't started asking me where I planned to go for dinner."

"I'm guessing its somewhere casual," Neal said.

"That's what Mozzie told me."

"What? Oh yes, of course," Mozzie said, giving her back the earrings. "We should be leaving in about half an hour."

"In the meantime," Syrie said, carefully putting her earrings back in. "I think Caffrey wants to know what he's going to be helping me steal."

Neal grinned. "What is it?"

"The Hope Diamond."

Mozzie stared at her. "You've got a thing for diamonds, don't you?"

"I like things that sparkle."


	5. Chapter 5

The inside of the building was dim and smoky. There was the steady hum of conversation and somewhere in the distance music pounded, too faint to hear though its beats resonated through Neal's chest.

Mozzie led them through the maze of tables and chairs easily, sometimes bringing them closer to the bamboo-lined wall and sometimes taking them to the dingy burgundy carpet that ran through the middle of the room. He moved with the certainty of one who has followed the same path to the same place over and over until they could navigate the intricate twists and turns in their sleep.

About five minutes into their trek through the restaurant they came to the back wall. Neal could hear the music now, punk rock or something along those lines being blasted not too far away.

Mozzie turned toward them, pulling out earplugs from his pocket. "Here. It's going to get a little loud for a few minutes."

Neal accepted the earplugs but Syremmine shook her head. "I'll be fine," she said with a grin, her eyes sparkling in the way Neal had always loved and associated with a job well done.

"Suit yourself." Mozzie reached out and pushed one of the pieces of bamboo. It sank into the wall and a previously hidden door swung open.

Mozzie stepped aside and motioned them in. Syremmine stepped into the passage, Neal following close behind her. Mozzie entered and then firmly shut the door behind them.

The music was louder here, echoing around the narrow hall. Even with earplugs in Neal could clearly hear it. He glanced at Syremmine to see how she was faring without anything to take the edge off the noise level.

His mouth spread into a grin. She was practically glowing, her eyes bright as she mouthed every word to the song playing. Neal had forgotten that she liked her music loud and fast, that she could sing along to a song after hearing it once, no matter how fast the words went.

He tried to read her lips managed to catch something about looking for reason and coming up empty handed before Moz tapped his shoulder. "This way!" the vertically challenged man yelled, motioning down the hall. "We're almost there!"

Neal nodded and grabbed Syremmine's arm, leading her down the passage after Mozzie.

The hallway was surprisingly short given how long it had taken to get there. In a handful of minutes they were standing in front of a heavy looking door with the image of a ship at sea carved into it. The whole door was a picture, really. You could see the ship, the waves, the birds soaring overhead in the sky, even the people on the ship. Pirates, Neal realized. It's a pirate ship. How he knew that he didn't know (there weren't any clues on the boat to give that away) but he was willing to bet every single diamond he and Syrie had stolen on that little detail.

Moz stepped up to the door and rapped on it. A hidden slot concealed as a piece of sky on the door slid open. Mozzie pulled Neal and Syrie into the line of sight of the man peering out at him. The man slammed the sliding cover on the slot shut and the door swung open.

Mozzie motioned them in, giving a hook on the door a little tug so it closed behind them. He pulled the earplugs out of his ears and Neal followed suit without question. Syremmine stood to the side looking a little disappointed that she had been pulled away from the music.

"Come on, we have a table waiting," Moz said.

"I think I'll just wait here…" Syrie said, looking longingly at the door.

Neal laughed. "No, Syrie. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, but I want to go back there!" She pouted.

Neal grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'll take you dancing before this is over."

"You'd better keep that promise, Caffrey," she replied evenly. "Because you know that one way or another you'll be taking me dancing now."

He grinned as she more or less pushed him into the booth Mozzie had led them to. She immediately freed the silverware from the napkin and shifted the spoon around until it reflected the orange and red light from the dying sun that streamed in through the skylight directly above them.

Neal watched her with a bemused smile, so absorbed in studying her that he jumped when Mozzie set a menu down in front of him with a soft _plop_.

With a certain degree of reluctance he turned his attention to the menu. Syrie laughed.

"Some people never change," she teased.

"What do you mean?"

"Caffrey, do you really want to go there?"

"Of course," he replied innocently.

She laughed, bringing a smile to everyone's face. "Okay, somewhat back on topic now." She reached into her pocket and pulled out some folded up papers. She started to unfold them then stopped. "Mozzie, is it safe to talk here?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

She smiled. "Of course. Its that paranoia that keeps me out of jail, unlike Caffrey here."

Neal made a face. "Can we please see the papers?"

"Well then, take the fun out of everything." She pouted but unfolded the papers. "Tomorrow night the Hope Diamond is going to be at the Astro Gallery. They're going to be having a party to show off the said diamond. However, I don't think that they'll be able to show off the piece."

"Because we're going to steal it at the last possible second and get away with it."

"Something like that," Syrie replied with a shrug. "We're going to have to get you out of your anklet, just in case."

"Of course…" He nodded. "I'll get the key from Peter."

"How are you going to get the Suit to give it to you?" Moz asked.

Neal smirked. "Who said anything about asking? It'll accidentally end up in my pocket."

"Are you guys ready to order?" a waitress asked, coming up to them with a notepad.

Syremmine nodded. "Yup. Cheeseburger and waffle fries, Dr. Pepper to drink."

Neal shrugged. "Hmm." He opened the menu, glanced at it, then said, "Just get me a cheeseburger too."

"The usual," Mozzie said.

The waitress grinned at them and said, "Your food'll be right out!"

The food _was_ 'right out.' Thirty minutes later the empty plates had been pushed to the side as Syremmine outlined her plan, being careful not to get any grease from the fries on the papers.

Neal hung on her every word, carefully committing every detail to memory as he idly munched on her fries. He had never felt more alive, planning another heist over cold waffle fries.

He was certain of one thing: He wasn't going to let Syrie leave without him again. When she decided to leave he would be going with her, whether he had Peter's permission or not. He had already made the mistake of letting her turn her back on him once, and he wasn't one to make the same mistake twice.

**I seem to have a very short attention span when it comes to writing… Sorry for the delay in updates as usual, and though I'm not going to make any promises I will say that I hope to have this finished before NaNoWriMo in November. (Though at the rate I'm going its questionable that I'll get this finished by the end of the year)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Caffrey, wake up. You're going to be late for work and I don't think the Fed is going to like it much."

Neal groaned and forced his eyes open. "Hmm? Syrie, we don't need the duct tape until tonight!"

One side of Syremmine's mouth twisted upwards into a wry half smile. "C'mon, Caffrey. We aren't hiding out in Paris anymore. You have to go see Peter."

Neal pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes focusing. "I overslept, didn't I?"

"According to June you've got ten minutes to get out the door. She's making some coffee for you to bring to Peter."

Neal dragged himself out of bed and stood there blankly for a second.

Syrie smirked and turned him towards the bathroom with a gentle shove. "Shower, Caffrey, and make it quick."

"You know, with anyone else this would be awkward," he said, throwing the words over his shoulder and motioning somewhat vaguely at his boxers and white t-shirt.

"Exactly. Now hurry up."

Neal laughed and disappeared into the hallway leading to his bathroom and closet.

Eight minutes later Neal found that Syrie had laid out a shirt and tie for him, along with a cinnamon roll and a thermos of coffee. Neal dressed quickly with a broad grin. Syremmine was definitely something special.

…

"Syrie?" Neal called, stepping into his room.

"I'm in here," she replied, her voice a little muffled. If it had been anyone else Neal would have been concerned.

He followed the little hall, peering into the closet before continuing on to the bathroom where Syremmine was busy preparing her appearance for that night.

Neal lightly rapped on the doorframe to let Syremmine know he was coming in. She was bent double over the sink, running dye through her hair.

"Yes, Caffrey?"

"I've got your ID for tonight. All it needs is a picture."

"Wonderful. Thanks, Neal. What's my name tonight?" Her voice was slightly muffled by the sink

"Amber Underwood, a gifted artist who works in reproductions of the masterpieces. She is currently dating Tony Amari, a gemologist who works for the Smithsonian."

She picked up her head, her hair falling around the old towel she had hung over her shoulders. "Great. Let me finish with my hair and get my contacts in. Pick a color and a pair of glasses, pretty please?"

Neal selected a pair of green contacts and rectangular glasses with tortoise shell frames. "You want me to go get you a nicer shirt?"

"What's wrong with my t-shirt?" she asked innocently.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, go ahead. I don't have any ideas as to what shirt would be best so just choose one."

He took his time choosing a shirt for her. This ID would be special. Amber Underwood and Tony Amari were the first aliases they had used together. He eventually settled on a silky black V-neck and a white undershirt.

He draped the shirts over the back of a chair and pulled out the ingredients for oatmeal raisin cookies, knowing Syremmine would appreciate it. Besides, it would be awhile before she was done with her hair.

Half an hour later the shower turned off and the third batch of cookies came out of the oven. Neal checked to make sure that the oven was off then grabbed the shirts and a cookie.

She had finished with her hair and it was twisted up onto the back of her head, held in place by a clip. She had pulled her jeans back on but her shirt was discarded on the floor by her feet, obviously with the theory that she would be taking it off again shortly, so why bother. A towel was wrapped around her torso, the straps of her bra disappearing into the terrycloth folds.

She leaned over the sink as she carefully painted her lips with a delicate shade of rose. Her eyes were outlined in emerald a shade lighter than her eyes now that she had the colored contacts in.

"Planning on standing there forever, Caffrey?"

He shrugged. "You looked busy."

She turned to face him, her now-copper colored hair falling around her shoulders as she pulled the clip from it. "Nope. Is that a cookie?" Her eyes lit up.

He passed it to her and she bit into it greedily. "Mmm, Neal. I've missed your cooking."

He laughed. "You just like my cooking because I make cookies."

She swallowed and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "That too. So what shirt did you choose?"

Neal tossed it to her. "Your hair'll stand out."

"That it will. You have more cookies?" She looked longingly toward his room.

"Of course. Get dressed, we'll finish the ID, and you can have more cookies."

He slipped out of the bathroom and barely made it to the main part of his room before she ran up behind him. "Cookies?"

He turned her toward the board that had been set up. "Smile," he directed, grabbing a camera.

He barely got a picture before she was off again towards the table where the cookies sat on cooling racks.

Neal couldn't help but grin as she settled herself in front of the cookies and methodically started eating, making sure that she got every crumb. He had forgotten what she looked like in glasses, the way she bit her lip when concentrating on something, the way she cupped a hand under the cookie as she bit into it to ensure that not a single crumb would escape.

After she had eaten ten or so of the cookies she stood up rather regretfully. "Everything in moderation, I suppose."

Neal laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Yeah, well, after I left I didn't have you to pull me back and tell me no anymore." She shrugged. "And you can't tell me that the same thing didn't happen to you. Its amazing you lasted for as long as you did before getting arrested without me."

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Caffrey, you were worse, if I remember correctly."

"This from the one who once stole more than enough junk food to get us through eight months?"

"I planned that out! You're more impulsive."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. You used to lie so reflexively that when you did bother to tell the truth the adults accused you of making things up."

She shrugged. "Hey, it was obviously the wrong message to send to a child like me. However, you were the one who told the whole school that we were going out because you thought our cover might be threatened."

"That was different! People were starting to wonder why we were seen together so often in awkward places… most of which were your fault, I might add."

"If you're referencing the closet incident I'll remind you that it was your idea to hide in there just because you didn't like the idea of climbing into the trees."

"I couldn't climb the tree. My wrist was sprained because _you _felt the need to push me out of a window!"

"Come on, Caffrey. That's irrelevant. You could have climbed that tree in your sleep with only one good leg… Plus, who's the one who always kept you from doing anything stupid, like getting drunk?"

"Syrie, that's a little broad right there. And you and I were both hung over when you left."

"Nah, you downed most of that bottle of wine yourself. I only had a glass and a half. I don't get drunk before I fly."

"Hmm… actually, that _does_ explain where all that wine went…"

They were both laughing openly now, choking their words out between giggles and snorts and snickers. They had realized that separately they could give their marks a run for their money but together… well, the world had better watch out.

They were a study in contradictions: two people had never been more different while at the same time being exactly the same. If they had been good partners before they were an incredible team now.

It was going to be an amazing night.

**Hey, I actually managed to get this written and updated in a somewhat timely manner! :D  
>Anyway, reviews are appreciated as always and if this seems a little OOC I apologize ;) <strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I've never actually been to New York City, let alone any gem museums there. I apologize for the liberties I've taken with the Astro Gallery and quite a few things regarding the Hope Diamond and storing/transportation of said gem. Lastly, I have never actually planned a heist/stolen anything more valuable than change from my parents so any mistakes in that department are to be blamed on my boring life as a law-abiding citizen ;)**

"Ready, Caffrey?" Syremmine asked, gliding out of June's door.

Neal's eyes widened at her appearance. "Syrie, I thought we were keeping it simple…"

She smirked. "It's a black tie event, Neal. This isn't anything special."

Neal snorted. "I'm wearing a suit that I normally wear to work and you look like you just came from a wedding where you were the bride."

She grinned. "Have you ever considered that I do this just to torture you?"

"Yeah, I have," Neal mumbled, eyes still locked on her dress. It was a sleeveless, pale green number that shimmered and sparkled even in the dim glow from the streetlamps and June's windows, especially where it flared at the waist to float around her feet. Neal could just see a flash of silver from underneath the hem of the dress. Her hair was braided and curled, pinned up in an elaborate design, with one stubborn piece of hair drifting down over her shoulder. Tiny flowers hung from her ears, peridot and emerald with a milky pearl at their center.

"You still have those earrings?" Neal asked, mildly surprised.

Her hand drifted up to fiddle with one. "Yeah… I'm not about to lose them. They're one of the few reminders I have left of what we used to have going for us."

Neal shook his head slightly. "Hey now, lets not get all depressed. We're together again, running another heist."

"Yeah, but it's not the same. You're working for the feds, and I haven't done something like this in a long time. Besides, what's going to happen after tonight?"

"We aren't going to think about that," Neal said firmly. "We'll take this one night at a time."

"Sure," she replied absently. "…Anyway, I suppose we should get going."

"Off we go, two criminals doing what we do best!"

Syrie laughed and Neal grinned, the melancholy of a few moments before dissipating into the night air. They were old partners reunited after a long time and that was all that mattered.

…

Heads turned when they entered the gallery and eyes widened. They practically glowed, basking in each other's presence and the knowledge that they were doing what they had been born to do.

Syremmine hung on Neal's arm, her voice slipping back into its old southern accent that she had made an effort to hide even though Neal adored it. Amber and Tony fit over the two cons like a second skin. They laughed and made small talk, sipping delicately at bubbly champagne.

At some point or another they got separated. Neal wasn't quite sure how it happened, but he ended up on the opposite side of the room. It wasn't really a problem; when they needed to be together he would find a way to get to Syrie without looking suspicious.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Neal kept glancing surreptitiously at the clock and then at Syrie. At the fifteen minute mark she met his eye and nodded, beginning to slip through the sea of people towards him. He started in her general direction, and discovered that she had been stopped by some well-meaning gentleman who was avidly discussing the pros and cons of creating gemstones in a lab.

She glanced at Neal for half a second, quick enough that the stocky man in front of her didn't notice. She shifted her champagne flute to her other hand and nodded.

Neal grabbed a flute from a passing waiter and stumbled over to Syremmine. He casually bumped into her and she dumped the contents of her glass down the front of her dress.

"Oh, so sorry," Neal slurred. "Is that… dry clean?"

"Hang on," she murmured. Louder, she said, "Oh, I am _so_ sorry. I need to go get cleaned up…"

The stocky man in front of her continued to talk long after she and Neal had disappeared into the crowd.

…

Neal stopped in the corner. "Okay, so you remember what we're doing?"

"Of course. I distract the guard; you slip into the basement and turn off the power." Syremmine faked a little hiccup.

Neal grinned. "Okay, so we're ready?"

Syremmine nodded. "Yep. Off we go. Oh, and Caffrey?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget to disable the back-up generator. We want someone to be sent down there to turn it on manually."

"Picky picky," he returned mildly.

She smirked. "I'm the one keeping us out of jail, remember?" She started off towards the door that did its best to blend into the wall. Neal trailed a discreet distance behind her.

When she arrived at the door she reached out, around the guard, and tugged at the door knob.

"Excuse me, Miss. You can't go in there," the man warned.

"Why not?" Syrie pouted, slurring her words. "I need to go to the bathroom!"

"Ma'am, that's not the bathroom. That's a staff-only area."

"But I need to go _pee!_" Syrie shifted from foot to foot.

"Ma'am, are you drunk?"

"I'm drunk, I swear! I swear to sober I'm drunk!" She twisted away from him and stumbled towards the wall where she tripped and fell to the floor. When he reached out to help her up Neal opened the door and slipped in.

"Ma'am, I'll find someone to show you to the restrooms…"

"No! This is the bathroom, right behind you, but you won't let me in!" She crossed her arms as a fake tear rolled down her cheek. "…You're floor is very nice. Marble, right?"

"Um… no. Its not."

"It's _cleeeaaaan_."

"Will you please stand up, Ma'am?"

"But I like your floor!"

He reached out and pulled her to her feet. He was about to reply when the lights flickered and then went off.

Syrie slipped past him, making sure not to touch him. She groped around the wall for the door knob and when she found it she opened it just enough to slip through. She was supposed to meet Neal at the top of the stairs…

She mentally recited to herself the directions: Down the hall, take a right, sharp left, stop. In the dark little sounds seemed magnified and she almost stopped to pull off her heels so she could move silently.

There was a brief flash of light. She reflexively took half a step back and pressed her back against the wall, trying not to breathe.

"Syrie, it's me…" Neal whispered.

"Caffrey, don't ever pull something like that again," she breathed.

He turned the flashlight back on, his face all shadows and sharp angles with the dim light reflecting in his eyes. Syremmine almost laughed when she saw that it was a tiny, pink pocket flashlight, the kind that you can get a pack of fifteen or so for a couple bucks.

He pulled another one out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. "In case we get separated," he whispered by way of explanation. "Shall we?"

"Sure. The alarms are wired to the power, right?"

Neal smirked. "That and the back-up generator. I give it at least five minutes before they send someone down to look at it."

"That'll be cutting it close," she said briskly with a short nod. "We'd better get started."

Neal grinned. "So serious…"

She bit back a giggle and lightly smacked his arm. "We've got a job to do, Caffrey. Let's go."

"Fine, fine." He followed her down the hall, the grin never leaving his lips.

They moved through the darkness with an expert air about them. They knew what they were doing, and they knew they could trust each other. They only sound was the soft _click_ of Syrie's heels on the hard floor, and though Neal could tell that it bothered her they didn't have time for her to take them off.

They were so close to the vault when they heard voices. Syremmine grabbed Neal's arm and yanked him into a doorway.

They stood still as statues as the voices grew closer. Neither dared to breathe; the littlest sound could give them away.

"Jordan, I don't think there's anyone down here!"

"I swear I heard something! There was a clicking, I know it!"

"You're hearing things. Look, there's no one down here." The hallway was thrown into harsh light. Syremmine met Neal's eyes. This was it.

The tension in the air was almost palpable. Their hearts were beating too loud, too fast. The alcove they were hiding in was too shallow. Jordan and his partner would see them, catch them, turn them in…

Jordan and his partner started down the hall. The light grew closer. Syrie could see their shadows, stretching up to the ceiling. And then, as cliché and it was, Syremmine needed to sneeze.

She pressed both hands over her nose and mouth, fighting the impulse with everything she had. Neal must have noticed her predicament because as Jordan and his partner passed them he pulled her against his chest, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand against her mouth and nose, his back to the hallway.

"Hang in there, Syrie," he whispered in her ear, almost too faint for her to hear. She nodded once.

Jordan- or maybe it was his partner- stopped right in front of the alcove. Syrie was pretty sure her heart missed a beat. "There's no one here! We need to go back to the basement and see if we can fix the power!"

"Fine," Jordan grumbled. "You never believe me. If the Diamond gets stolen tonight it's your fault."

The light turned away and the footsteps receded. Neal let out a barely audible sigh of relief and Syrie gave a muted sneeze against her hands.

"Did you hear that?"

The two cons froze.

"I told you, there's no one out there! Jordan, you need to have your ears checked!"

And then the light was gone and Jordan and his partner had turned the corner.

Neal let Syrie go. "That was rather close."

"Tell me about it." She wiped her hands on her skirt. "We need to hurry up. We just wasted a lot of time."

Neal stepped out into the hallway. "Well, we're fairly close to where they're storing the diamond… Two doors away, actually. We probably could have made it."

Syremmine sighed. "Yeah, but I wasn't thinking, and what if they had gone to make sure it was still there? Then we would have been royally screwed."

Neal shrugged and turned his flashlight back on. "Well, off we go."

It was starting to seem a little bit too easy. Sure, they had run into Jordan and his partner, but there wasn't anyone else to be seen. Neither con was willing to say anything just in case that jinxed their extraordinary good luck. In fact, Neal had lifted the diamond off of the black velvet bust when the lights flickered back on.

They both froze. Syremmine was holding the velvet bag open, ready for the necklace. They both looked toward the door in unison.

"Well, this isn't good," Syremmine remarked.

"Not at all… Hey, turn around," Neal said.

"Um… why?"

"Just do it."

She turned her back to him, flinching at the cold touch of gold "Caffrey, what are you doing?"

"Well, we can't just walk out of here like we planned to. This is plan B."

"How does having me wear the Hope Diamond seem like a good idea? It's a huge gemstone. There's no way no one will notice!"

"Just don't argue," Neal said. "Trust me."

"I will hurt you if I get arrested."

"You'll hurt me if Amber Underwood gets arrested," he corrected.

"Same difference!"

He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come on, we need to get out of here and into the main part of the building before anyone comes looking for us or the diamond."

He pulled her along quickly, taking the turns faster than they should have. Caution had been thrown to the winds. Either they got out fast now or they were careful and got arrested later. Against all odds they managed to make it out of the staff-only halls and back into the main part of the building. Luck was on their side because there was no one guarding the door. Everything was going as well as it possibly could.

Somehow they both managed to miss the sirens.

Neal grabbed Syrie's arm as they melted into the pushing, panicked crowd of people. "How are we going to get out of here?" he asked.

"I was wondering the same myself," she murmured, resisting the urge to cover the diamond at her throat. "What are the exits that we can't use?"

"The main door, the windows..."

"Any staff exits," she added.

"Well, I guess that leaves the fire exit then." He grinned. "This seems a little on the familiar side."

She smirked. "Well, yeah. So fire exit it is. It's going to make some noise though."

"Of course." He couldn't help laughing. "The more noise the merrier, remember?"

The laugher was contagious. "Oh, I remember, Caffrey. I remember."

He shrugged innocently, feeling more complete than he had in a long time. Maybe it was the euphoria of running another heist, or maybe it was just because he was with Syrie again.

She slipped her hand into his, interlacing their fingers and together they began to weave their way through the crowd, moving left and right and occasionally backwards, dodging elbows and feet, never remaining in the same place for more than ten seconds. The crowd pushed them back but they dove forward. In an almost unrealistic amount of time they made it to the fire exit. Against all odds it seemed like they might just make it out of there without cuffs.

"Ready?"

Syremmine nodded. "Yeah. On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three." Neal pushed down on the bar, opening the door. A cool breeze wafted in, tugging at their hair even as a painfully loud klaxon started up. Neal and Syremmine were already outside, the door swinging shut behind them, by the time anyone turned to look for them.

The air was brisk and refreshing after the stuffy interior of the gallery. Under the moon's pale light the alley seemed clean and free of debris. Syremmine started towards the street but stopped short at the corner.

Neal peered out into the street. His heart missed a beat.

Jones continued towards them, stopping at the entrance to the alley. "Caffrey?"

"No, Tony Amari. I need to go..." Neal tried to push past but Jones caught his arm.

"Neal, please don't tell me you're involved in this..." Syrie tried to cover the diamond hanging around her neck but Jones must have seen the reflected light from the diamonds. "Oh no. Please tell me you two didn't just steal the Hope Diamond..."

Jones grabbed a pair of cuffs. "Diana, I'm going to need some help over here," he called over his shoulder.

Diana appeared. She looked from Neal to Syremmine and then shook her head. "Peter's not going to be very happy about this..."

**Well, November (and NaNoWriMo are almost here) and I've managed to get this finished finally! The rest will be posted by the end of the week. I apologize for any errors/things that don't agree with each other. It's been awhile since I worked on this.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A timely update! :D**

Syremmine moved carelessly, obviously oblivious to the fact that she was in cuffs. She had a serene smile playing across her face as Diana sat her down in a chair with the command "Wait."

Neal's leg bounced. He shifted, stared at the window then studied his shoes.

They sat in silence for a few heartbeats, and then Syremmine said, "Relax, Caffrey. You're fine."

He laughed nervously. "I've never been less fine. You realize we just go caught, right?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Sure I've got the Hope Diamond around my neck, but other than that..."

"You realize Peter will have both of us in prison, right?"

She turned, meeting his eyes. "Neal. I'm serious when I say we're fine. You just ran a con, and we did better than I ever remember. Don't go blabbing to your partner, and we'll be fine. Just follow my lead."

Peter walked into the room and Syremmine turned her head to look at him. Flashing a brilliant smile she said, "Hey. You look familiar."

He frowned. "Don't even try that with me, Nikki Williams. If that is your real name."

She shrugged. "Ah well. The curtain has fallen."

Peter narrowed his eyes and perched on the edge of the desk in front of them. "Neal?"

Neal's head came up, and there was that old spark glinting in his eyes. "Peter."

A ghost of a smile drifted across Peter's face for a second. "Care to explain what happened tonight?"

Neal shared a glance with Syremmine. Her face spread into a smile and he had to resist the temptation to start laughing with her. "Not really. Would you explain for me?"

Peter sighed. "You know what, Neal? I forgot how much of a pain in the ass you could be at times."

"That would be Neal Caffrey, yes," Syremmine said. "Also Steve Tabernacle, Nick Halden, and a whole host of others."

"At least you didn't mention Michael Waters this time," Neal threw back.

Peter watched the criminals in front of him with a bemused smile. "Are we done yet?"

"Nope," Neal replied, never taking his eyes away from Syremmine's face. "I don't think we'll ever be done."

"You do realize that you've both been arrested and one of you is wearing stolen property, right?"

"Hey, Neal, are you wearing the stolen socks again?" Syremmine smirked.

"I threw those away years ago!" he protested. "They got smelly!"

"They were smelly when we stole them," she corrected.

"Not my fault you wanted smelly socks," Neal retorted.

"Well then... moving on before we say anything potentially incriminating. If you're not wearing the stolen socks, and I'm not wearing the stolen socks, who's wearing the stolen socks?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

Peter frowned. "What stolen socks? You know what, never mind. Would you care to turn over the Hope diamond?"

Syrie looked down at the pendant hanging from her neck. "Yeah, I don't see the Hope diamond. I see a brilliant reproduction, but no Hope Diamond."

Peter sighed and slipped off the desk. "I'll give you guys five minutes, then I want the truth."

He stepped out the door. Both people left in the room heard him say to Diana, "As if one Neal was bad enough, now here's a second one."

"Hurtful!" Neal called.

Syremmine laughed. "I never realized quite how much I missed sitting in plastic chairs with my hands cuffed behind me. You really are a bad influence, Neal."

He grinned at her as if to say 'Who, me?' "Well, you've got that legendary good influence so in the end we balance each other out."

She rolled her eyes. "Not really, Caffrey. We're both criminals of the same caliber. The only difference is that I occasionally stop and think before I go and con one of the richest people in America."

Neal sighed. "You really aren't going to let that go, are you? That was how many years ago?"

Her eyes closed for a second as she shook her head. "I'm not going to do the math. It was much too long ago. We were what, fifteen?"

"Fourteen," he corrected absently. "So what are you going to do about this criminal record you're about to get?"

She studied her feet through the silver straps of her heels. There was a pause filled with the muted sounds of New York and their breathing, and then she said, "I've been laying low for the past decade. When we first went our separate ways I continued to run a few cons but they just weren't as exciting without my partner by my side. I fell away from our life of crime as much as I could. I kept a foot in the water, of course. My father did need a secretary. But to the majority of the world Becky Mushitz has been an underachieving secretary for some CEO in a good sized company for the past twelve years."

She looked up and Neal vaguely noted that one of her contacts had fallen out, leaving her with one green eye and one her natural hazel. "There are some nights when I look back on it all and say that I was an idiot for letting my criminal life be swept away by a sea of legitimate paper trails. Right now, that part of me is saying 'I told you so.' This freedom, the thrill of doing something illegal and getting away from under the noses of everyone around you is what I live for. I missed something in my life, and now I have a name for it. Thanks, Caffrey. You pulled me back into this life and now I'll never be able to leave it again. I'll take the rest of my life however it comes at me as long as I'm on this side of the law, wading through that murky gray area we both adore."

Neither of them had noticed the door opening or Peter stepping into the room. After a moment he cleared his throat. "You realize that you two should be in big trouble right now, correct?"

Neal smiled that trademark grin of his. "Peter, I can't imagine what we could do that would get us into big trouble."

"Fine. You just got yourself into massive trouble."

Syremmine shrugged. "Eh, I think we'll live."

Peter uncrossed his arms and stepped toward them. Neal watched, mildly interested, as his partner pulled out the key to the handcuffs.

Crouching in front of the criminals in front of him Peter said softly, "As long as the diamond is returned there won't be any charges against the two of you. However-"

"Of course. The famous 'however.'" If words could be killed, Peter suspected that 'however' would have been murdered at this woman's hands a long time ago. Syremmine's eyes were narrowed slightly, and Peter could tell that she was ready to find the loopholes in whatever he said next.

"My boss isn't about to let either of you go without an explanation," Peter finished.

Syremmine rose to her feet and Peter and Neal stood with her. "Well then. If I'm no longer under arrest, Agent Burke, I'll be leaving." Her hands came out from behind her back and she innocently twirled the cuffs around a finger before passing them to the agent.

She gave Neal one last glance on her way out the door. "Caffrey, you didn't even bother to pick the cuffs? And here I thought my old partner was back." She sighed then slipped out.

"She'll be back," Neal said, almost too low for the agent to hear.

Peter smiled wryly. "Of course. She can't leave without one last goodbye." He circled behind Neal and freed his partner's hands. "I'd give it fifteen minutes."

Neal shook his head slightly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "She'll be back in a few seconds. She has this thing about not leaving anyone behind."

"Ah. So... Neal, you realize that your sentence is almost up, right? In a few months you'll be a free man again."

Neal turned to Peter and gave him a fleeting smile. "I know."

"What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've made a lot of enemies recently, and my reputation is a little more tarnished in the criminal underworld than I'd like it to be. Maybe I'll go back to my old life."

Peter made a noncommittal noise. "You'll stay in touch?"

Neal frowned. "Why are we having this conversation now?"

Peter shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I was wondering... look, there she is!"

Syremmine walked up the stairs to the glass walled office, not minding that she was attracting attention. "Well then. We meet again."

"Did you ever doubt that you would turn around?" Neal teased.

"No, I was actually expecting you to come running after me. I just remembered that I forgot something."

"Oh, what's that?" Peter asked.

Syremmine unhooked the necklace and gently handed the Hope Diamond to Peter. "Make sure it finds its way back to its home," she said softly. "Neal, I'll see you tomorrow." She winked and with a jaunty grin turned away.

Then she was walking away again, Neal was laughing, and Peter had no idea what had just happened.

**After this there's one more chapter/epilouge thingy, and then I'm done. Look for an update either later tonight or tomorrow. **


	9. Epilouge

**The epilouge, two months late. I apologize.**

**Danke: Lilliana, Hannah, and Taylor for all the help you provided while writing this. Also, thanks go out to all those wonderful people who have reviewed, especially Crystalzap. They were all read and appreciated, and yes, I should really get back in the habit of replying to them.**

**Finally, thank you to those who actually read this and put up with my horrid updating pattern. **

_She sashayed into the dingy hotel room, firmly locking the door behind her. "Neal, we've got a problem."_

_Neal looked up from his book. "Syrie, its nothing we can't handle."_

_Her eyes flashed and she shook her head. "Neal, it is a big problem." She tossed a newspaper at him. "We made the headlines, Neal. The _headlines_."_

_He picked the paper up skimmed through the article on the front. "Your point? Like I said, it's nothing we can't handle."_

_She laughed bitterly. "Neal, I told you that selling those diamonds was a bad idea."_

_"We needed to skip town. It was necessary."_

_"No, it wasn't." She bit her lip. "We have other ways to get money, but we had to take the stupid, easy option." She spat the words out._

_He rose to his feet and walked over to her. "Syremmine, we're fine. We can get through this." _

_"Individually, yes. But they've got our descriptions out and paired together. If we stay here and stay together we're screwed."_

_He put his hands on her shoulders. "There's another way, I know it. We'll find that way out and stay together."_

_"Neal, trust me. We're all but on the no fly list. I could get out and away with a wig and a pair of glasses but you would need plastic surgery." She pulled away and turned the TV on. The news anchor was rattling off something about stolen diamonds, and Neal almost told Syremmine that it was nothing. Then a picture appeared in the corner._

_It wasn't a grainy, poor quality shot from a security camera. It was a picture taken from a high-quality camera, the lines crisp and clear. It showed his face and Syrie's arm as she reached out to pull him away. A jaunty grin adorned his face, his pleasure at a job well done easy to see._

_"Someone sold us out, Neal. We need to burn everything and go our separate ways. There isn't another way out this time."_

_He sighed. "Syrie, couldn't we just get out of the country, lay low somewhere in Europe for a few months then come back?"_

_She was biting her lip again, a frown creasing her brow. "No, Neal. I could get away, but they would recognize you." _

_He suddenly hugged her. "Syrie, just stay one more night. We'll figure it out in the morning. Tomorrow might bring us handcuffs and jail cells, but that's why it's even more important for you to say you'll stay and dance with me tonight."_

_She nodded. "Okay, Crandlemire. Okay. Just one more night, but then I have to leave."_

_"I know, Syrie. I know." He sighed. "I do have some wine..."_

_She laughed with a small sniffle. "That's good. We'll make this a last night, an ending of a decade's worth of partnership, to remember."_

_()()()()()()()()_

_The next morning they woke on the floor, the previous night incredibly vivid. Syremmine dragged herself up and pulled out the box with the diamonds. She expertly assessed them before splitting them evenly in half by value. "This is goodbye then. Your half are still in the box, I'll take the jeweler's bag." She turned to go but Neal stepped forward. _

_"Syrie, wait." He opened the box and withdrew two diamonds. "It's only fair, now we're even. You're going to have to sell one for the plane ticket and if you're really serious about getting two of them set..." He took the little black bag from her and slipped the sparkling gems into it, then pressed the bag into her hand. "Have a nice life, Syrie."_

_"You too," she said crisply, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "Maybe I'll see you again someday."_

_"Someday," he agreed._

_"Have fun in New York. It's too bad we're never going to get to tear it apart at its seams like we planned to." She paused. "Oh, and Neal?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Don't forget to change your name."_

_He made a face. "Syrie, I don't think I can change it."_

_"Well, you could keep the first one but 'Crandlemire' has to go. It's too distinct, too easy to remember."_

_He nodded once. "Fine. Caffrey then. Neal Caffrey."_

_She smiled. "I like it. Bye, Caffrey."_

_She turned her back to him and slipped out the door. He tried to follow but in the few seconds it took for him to get to the door and throw it open she had already disappeared. _

...

Neal's eyes opened. A dream, a memory, something in between... It had been too long since that had happened for him to be certain. The sun was just beginning to rise. It seemed like just another day.

Then he remembered: Today was his last day working for Peter.

By the end of the day he would be a free man once more.

...

The room was bathed with a reddish light from the slowly setting sun. The door that led outside was ajar. Neal smiled, and then soundlessly walked out onto the terrace, stopping a yard or so behind Syremmine.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, not turning around.

Neal walked towards her, stopping by her side. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wall. "Yeah. Think I should stay here? I'm a free man now."

Syremmine turned and met his eyes. "Caffrey, a cat can't change his colors anymore than you can turn your back on the Feds and the life you had before that."

Neal dipped his head toward her. "Touché. I guess I'll go back to conning and trying to stay half a step ahead of the FBI. There isn't really another way to make the two meet."

She laughed, the sound just as enchanting as it had been the first time Neal had ever heard it. "Caffrey, I would like to beg to differ. I've seen what you have with them, and I know that you can't turn your back on it, whether your sentence is up or not. You weren't losing your touch; you were getting a completely new one."

He frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

She smiled that little half smile of hers that he adored; the mischievous one that usually didn't bode well for the person it was aimed at. From her pocket she withdrew what looked like a leather wallet and flipped it open. "Peter offered and you said you needed time to think about it. I said yes for you."

She pressed the FBI badge into Neal's hand. "It was nice seeing you again, but I think it's time to make my exit from your life before I ruin it all." She started toward the door.

"Wait, Syrie."

She turned. "Yeah Caffrey?"

"I think this can wait." He flashed the badge and then slipped it into his pocket. "We used to have plans to tear New York apart, and now is the time. Both worlds are open to me right now, and we've got all the time in the world."

She took a step forward, half smiling though her eyes a little unsure. "Well, Caffrey, I have to admit tearing New York apart at its seams would be quite a celebration, but I'm not sure that it's what you want."

Neal was grinning openly now. "Syrie, there is only one thing I've ever wanted more in this life." He walked forward and kissed her squarely on the lips. "And now that we've got that out of the way, the thing I want most right now is to go out and tear New York City apart with my partner in crime."

Her eyes were wide in shock for a second, and then another smile spread across her lips, the sweet one that he could count on the fingers of one hand the times he had seen. "First and foremost partners back then, and now this. Well, Caffrey, it's good to see that you've come around since then. I have to say that's the only thing in this world that I was sure I'd never get."

Neal wrapped an arm around her waist and led her back to the wall. The bustling city was spread out below them, the sun just disappearing behind the horizon. They had the rest of their lives ahead of them. There was no way it could be more perfect.

Apparently fairytale endings were more than possible for men like him.

**Let me know what you think, as usual. Well, more than usual. I honestly need to know what everyone thinks about this ending in comparison to the rest of the fic. I'm really unsatisfied with this ending, but I can't think of anything else. Once again, I'm sorry that this chapter is so late. I kind of forgot about it. *facepalm***


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